It’s that time again: as the wheel of the year finishes one revolution and readies to start another, a fog has descended upon my corner of the world, persisting throughout the day—very fitting for Samhain, and suitably spectral for the thinning of the veil.
From here on out, the days will only keep getting darker—and, climate change notwithstanding, colder—as winter prepares to sink its teeth in. The time of harvest is over, and now we huddle closer to the light, sheltering from the encroaching shadow. Long nights, gloomy weather…the perfect conditions for writing, right?
Well…
Practising the craft
For me, this Samhain truly is a new beginning. Since my last check-in at Mabon, I have moved out and am living on my own for the first time in all of my thirty-one years (!!!), and so I’ve been very, very busy. Moving in and trying to find a new routine while tackling the busy period at my day job hasn’t left much time for writing as I’d have liked, and while I’m hoping to rectify that this month, I have an old foe to contend with.
On Samhain, the dead are closer than ever, the boundary between worlds thinned. For me, death never feels far away no matter which day of the year. Mixed in with the fun anxiety cocktail I live with is a(n un)healthy dose of thanatophobia, inescapable even when I lose myself in the craft. When I write, there persists an edge of desperation, a desire to do something “worthwhile”, to make a mark on the world no matter how small. I am constantly, keenly aware of how little time any of us have on this planet, and the gaps in my as-of-yet tentative, unfamiliar routine provide the perfect opportunity for the old fear to come slithering back in.
You’d think that this would light a fire under me and force me to put pen to paper. Unfortunately, it usually has the opposite effect. The worse my mental state is—the more paralysed I am by fear—the harder it is to tap into the well and create, even when I know that writing will make me feel better. It’s incredibly frustrating.
And so, I remain trapped in a vicious cycle, until a stroke of inspiration sets me free…
Drawing inspiration
I’ve been lucky enough to beta-read some fantastic books recently, and seeing people really shine at their craft inspires me to challenge myself. I think I mentioned this last time, too, but I’m so lucky to be part of such an amazing writing community, and to have such incredible, supportive writer friends in my corner, Writing can sometimes feel like sitting down with pen and paper and driving myself insane (hello family timelines in my latest project), so I’m eternally grateful to have people to share the madness experience with.
I’ve also found inspiration in a virtual Seed Talk I attended: Vampires, Desire and the Queer Imagination with Dr. Kaja Franck, who may be the best Seed Talk speaker I’ve heard yet! Even though my current project features werewolves, not vampires, I still found myself inspired and re-energised to work on my WIP. I’m also looking forward to the paperback publication of Dr. Franck’s monograph The Ecogothic Werewolf in Literature, which for obvious reasons sounds very pertinent to my interests!
Walking the woodland path
What with the whirlwind of moving out, I haven’t had as much time for nature as I’d have liked, but I did manage to squeeze some in before the move. Hedgerows and Hagstones’ Fabulous Fungi walk was every bit as fascinating as their other guided walks that I’ve been on, with the fun twist of being half treasure hunt. We mushroom enthusiasts were unleashed onto Ampthill Park and tasked with finding fungi, and find it we did—giant polypore, birch polypore and even biofluorescent sulphur tufts (excellent name) among others. Kerry’s knowledge, enthusiasm and humour made the walk so memorable, so if you’re in the UK and H&H do a walk near you—go!
My work schedule means that I won’t be able to attend a volunteering party at the reservation for a couple of weeks, but in the meantime I’ll try to get better acquainted with the wildlife in my new locale. According to Merlin there are lots of long-tailed tits where I live, though I’m yet to see one, and I was very excited to see a magpie land in my garden this week (literally the only animal I’ve seen in there so far). Come spring, I’ll start work on transforming my garden into a wildlife haven, so I can occupy myself in the winter months with planning for that.
One animal I’ve been glimpsing as I drive home late at night is the muntjac deer, and I’ve been reflecting today on the deer’s significance to me. It’s the sigil of my Irish family, as well as the county (and town!) in which I was born and raised. That this is the animal which I continue to see as I find my bearings feels auspicious, and I hope that this bodes well for the new year.
If you’ve read this far, I wish you a blessed Samhain and a prosperous new year!